A/N: I've written a bit, but I just started publishing/posting some of stuff today. So please don't judge too harshly, haha. Reviews would be much appreciated because I always want to improve my work. Thanks :) Disclaimer, I don't own Once Upon a Time.

Killian scanned the dense Neverwoods looking for any signs of the lost boys. The search for Henry was pushing on three months, but they couldn't be certain. Time in Neverland worked differently than most realms, but Killian was fairly accustomed to the differences and was almost certain it was three months. Three intense months. They had barely any leads throughout the time, mostly going off vague guesses that the Crocodile's magic could give them and discovering unhelpful abandoned camps. It was a wild goose chase.

That is, up until recently. They finally discovered a solid lead. The Picanny tribe, after a brief and terrible misunderstanding, guided them towards an area on the vast island. It wasn't as precise as one would hope, but it was definitely something to lift their spirits on the desolate journey so far.

With the direction from the Picanny tribe, they headed out towards that part of the island and laid anchor. The crew split into groups—Charming and the Crocodile and, much to Charming's chagrin, Killian and Emma all went off onto the island to find any leads. The Evil Queen and Snow begrudgingly remained on the Jolly Roger to guard it. Somehow they had come to the conclusion that those groups were for the best. Who exactly figured that out and who exactly thought those were the best pairings, Killian couldn't say.

Killian continued looking for signs of the lost boys, looking amongst the trees and bushes as well as the ground and sky. Emma was also looking for anything in another part of the woodland, in a space not far off from where he was. Over the three months that they'd been in Neverland, Emma had proven her worth quite nicely. Killian had enough confidence in her to not be standing next to her 24/7.

He was just about to inspect a suspicious spot on the ground when he heard a loud, terrified scream that echoed hauntingly throughout the trees.

"EMMA!"

Killian instantly broke into a sprint in the direction he knew Emma's scream came from. Blood rushed through his ears as he panicked; no further sounds came to indicate she was alive. He shouldn't have left her alone. He should have stayed by her side.

The lost boys could have gotten to her. They could have jumped her, gagged her—killed her.

No. He wouldn't let Emma Swan die.

He rushed through the woods, disregarding any branches that slapped against him as he barreled through the trees; his heart was rapidly beating in his chest, threatening to reach exhaustion and stop altogether. He skirted to a stop, coming upon the edge of a small cliff. The adrenaline pumped through him and he glanced around, worried that he'd been too late. Scared that he'd been too late.

Then he caught a glimpse of her and found himself almost doubling over with laughter, perhaps because of slight hysteria.

"Well, love, I see you fancied a swim!" Killian called out to Emma between breaths as he tried to catch his breath. She shot him a glare as she treaded water in the center of the small bay. She was perfectly alive and well, if not irritated and a little wet. Killian felt himself relax, his tense muscles slumping. Relief, in a ridiculous quantity, spread throughout him.

"Ha ha," she said humorlessly, "very funny."

"And here I thought you were getting attacked," Killian said, his chuckling finally subsiding.

"I tripped…but I'd almost swear something pushed me," Emma huffed. He could see her pout from all the way on the cliff top and he couldn't help but chuckle again. Captain Hook didn't describe anything as cute but, dare he say, Emma Swan, jutting out her bottom lip and crinkling her eyebrows, was cute.

"Wouldn't doubt it, love. Neverland can be quite mischievous," Killian said with a smile. Then he added, sobering up a bit, "Best not to linger in the water too long, though. Can never be too sure what creatures will decide to show up."

Killian knew the water had many bad qualities in Neverland. Many were not to be reckoned with. Though he didn't think she was in any immediate danger, he didn't want to chance any dangers by unnecessarily loitering.

"Swim to the shore there, kitten," Killian instructed, "I'll come around the edge."

"Aw, you don't want to join me?" Emma teased, but she already began swimming to the rocky shore. Killian smiled—their relationship had progressed so much from the start of the journey. He snaked his way past some of her barriers and vice versa, much to his disdain at first. Of course, he wasn't naïve enough to believe that they'd breached all of each other's defenses. Their banter and challenges of wits were the highlights of this journey, though he could only begrudgingly admit it to himself when he thought about it late at night. Gods, he didn't even like to admit it to even himself, but this woman was beginning to mean a whole lot more to him than simply being a part of something.

"I'd be delighted to join you if you lost a few garments," Killian mused.

She shot him a glare over her shoulder but didn't dignify it with any further response. He chuckled to himself again and began to trek his way to the shore, shaking his head slightly. Jumping in was quite tempting, actually. The heat in Neverland was unbearable.

He had to veer away from the cliff edge and weave his way through the trees. He did think Emma was capable to take care of herself, but that scare still shook him. He would not be responsible for the death of Emma Swan. It would kill him if she died and there was something he could have done had he been right next to her. It had been a very long time since he had held himself accountable for another's life, and he wasn't really sure how he felt about the sudden admission. He didn't hate it even if it was a somewhat disturbing thought.

The Neverland heat was getting to him, though, and he finally stripped himself of his shirt. He'd gradually lost his layers throughout the day, the heat bearing down on him insufferably. The humidity was growing worse and worse throughout the day and his usual leather pirate attire that he donned was not recommended at all. A thunderstorm would actually be relief at this point, but it could potentially wash away any clues that would lead them to Swan's boy. With that in mind, Killian watched the skies, hoping for the sake of the boy and Swan that the storm would either dissipate completely or remain at bay until they had thoroughly checked the area.

Finally, Killian made his way to the shore. Killian smiled to himself, thinking of a drenched Swan. Oh, the comments he could make. She'd reprimand him, but that was the fun of it. That was part of their banter; he'd say something inappropriate and she'd pretend that it bothered her. Yes, he thought, she would pretend that it bothered her. He'd seen some of the small, involuntary smiles that she tried to hide.

She had seemed in a good mood despite the fall. The clue from the tribe had definitely lifted her fallen spirits at least a tad. Otherwise, for a great deal of the journey, she had been understandably frustrated and angry at their lack of progress in finding her boy.

Anything he planned to say to her at the moment fell short, though. His mouth went dry and his lips were silent of any innuendo.

He glanced around the small clearing only to find it bare.

"Emma," he called out. He went to the shoreline to inspect. There was no indication of her getting out of the water at all; nothing to even show she made it to land. He instinctively looked to the water and to his dismay it was eerily still.

Everything seemed too calm and too quiet. The birds and creatures of Neverland stopped their noise as well, no chirping to be heard. The only sound was the slight breeze that ruffled a few leaves. Killian dropped his clothes to the ground, his worry building with every second that passed. Quickly, he went into a defensive stance, hand drawing his sword.

"Emma?" Killian inquired again, concern laced in his voice, a strong edge there as well; a warning. There was a feeling that something was wrong, and it was a feeling that he had developed from his many previous years of dealing with Neverland's perils. He stood, slowly circling by the shore with his sword and hook at the ready.

Then the sound reached his ears. It was so faint; he almost thought he imagined it. The majestic giggles and enchanting singing echoed from far away, somewhere that seemed so distant.

"Emma!"

Killian dropped the sword and went to the water, diving into its depths without hesitation. The fear for Emma's life he felt before returned with an abrupt and deliberate force.

Underneath the water, Killian could hear their song plain as day. He followed its source knowing that he would find Emma wherever they were. He cursed his hook; his lack of hand made him slower than he would have liked, every vital second passing him by.

Bloody mermaids resided on the other side of the island! He hadn't even really considered them when Emma had fallen into the bay. What in the bloody hell were they doing there?

Killian couldn't see a damn thing in the dark waters, which were so unlike the rest of Neverland's crystalline waters; which was why the mermaids should not have been there. They were sinfully vain creatures. They needed men to ogle at them and always be able to see their beauty. That's why they never ventured into the dark bays. They couldn't be adored if they couldn't be seen.

He had to resurface, he had to get air.

As soon as he went up and gulped in a quick breath, he was back under the water swimming to save Emma. Fear clawed at him as he realized how long Emma must have been submerged, how long the mermaids had kept her beneath the surface, playing their cruel games.

He swam with a new vigor, death laughing hysterically at his attempts to foil its plans to take his golden haired princess. Though, it wasn't death's laughter that Killian literarily heard. It was the mermaid's hysterical cackling that pounded in his ear drums, getting louder and louder.

"Is that your whore, Captain?" A mermaid taunted in his ear, startling him, but he didn't veer off course. He despised mermaids from the very depths of his being; he was never even allowed the dignity of responding to their horribly spoken taunts and threats. It fueled his anger even more, them calling Emma a whore. Emma was better than a whore and deserved respect. But Killian's thoughts weren't on the disrespect they were showing Emma but rather the fact that her life was very well in danger. The mermaid cackled in his ear again, continuing to swim along with him.

"You've been gone from these seas for a long time, Hook," the mermaid said. He ignored her as she continued to talk to him, unable to respond either way. She taunted him with cruel words, fueling his anger.

Miraculously, Killian caught sight of Emma in the murky waters. Two mermaids were tugging her further and further from the distant surface—further into the abyss. Pure panic rushed through him, propelling him faster in the water. He needed to get to her.

When he finally reached them, Killian's chest was tightening painfully. He couldn't last much longer without another breath of oxygen.

Killian reached out and grabbed Emma's arm, attempting to pull her from the mermaids' murderous grasps. They just yanked both Emma and Killian down with them, laughing maliciously while doing it. Killian fought against the mermaids' pull, but he didn't know how much longer he could fight his burning lungs.

Abruptly and disconcertingly, the mermaids stopped their descent in the water and allowed Killian to haul Emma into his arms. He didn't have to time to wonder why the mermaids suddenly let them go. He swam as fast as he could with Emma in his arm and a hook for a hand, heading towards where he knew oxygen waited for them. He felt sick at her limp body and her lack of consciousness. She was completely dead weight and Killian didn't feel comforted by that description at all.

A mermaid suddenly pulled his ankle and yanked him further from the surface and he weakly kicked out. After a few seconds, he was released and started swimming again.

The mermaids grabbed him again, pulling him deeper. Pulling Emma away from safety. They released him, one again allowing him to attempt to get closer to the surface.

He growled in frustration, black spots starting to appear in his vision. They were toying with him! They all continued to swim around him, erupting with evil and devious laughter, their cackling sickening him to his core.

After it happened a third time, he finally loosely let go of Emma to slash at a mermaid with his hook, knowing that if he continued on the way he was going about it, they'd just keep playing their deadly game until he drowned.

All the mermaids' laughter stopped and they screeched in anger as his hook met a mermaid.

The mermaid hissed in pain and then went for Emma in retaliation instead of attacking Killian like he'd expected. Horrified, Killian quickly snatched Emma away from the injured mermaid. All the mermaids swarmed around them, but they all seemed intent on Emma. He tried to yell, momentarily forgetting he was underwater. They were attacking fiercely with claws and fins. They couldn't have Emma again! It was a flurry of mermaid bodies and all Killian could do was hold on to Emma and try to swat them away the best he could with his hook.

Abruptly, the mermaids stopped all their attacks and started swimming away, back towards the clear waters of Neverland. Killian desperately needed a breath of fresh air, his head was pounding and his chest was burning him alive. Surprisingly, the creatures allowed him to swim towards the surface and he kept expecting interference but it never came.

Just before he broke the surface, a mermaid swam next to him and hissed menacingly in his ear, "You can take her. We don't like to play with dead things, anyways."

His blood went cold and he felt himself drain and go pale at her words. He broke to the surface, hauling Emma up with him. He was helpless to his gasps for air, unable to control his greedy intake of breath. His head felt less light and his chest didn't burn as much, but he couldn't deny that his chest seemed to hurt because Emma remained limp and motionless even with her head above water.

"Em—Emma," Killian coughed out. "Come on, love." He swam to shore as quickly as he could manage, taking note of her blue lips and her pale, drained, and lifeless face.

He shoved her on land and fumbled around her neck, looking for a pulse as he bent his head next to her mouth, trying to listen for any slight breath. His chest tightened painfully when he couldn't feel anything.

"Come on, Emma," Killian growled. Immediately he began pushing on her chest. Emma Swan was not going to die in Neverland. He bent down, plugged her nose, and blew his breath into her unresponsive mouth. Emma Swan would not die at all.

Still no movement.

He began pushing on her chest again and cursed his hook for the second time in a day. His bloody hook was making it difficult to save this amazing woman's life.

"You're not going to die," Killian hissed. "I'm not going to let you die."

No. No. No. This cannot be happ—

He repeated his ministrations again, refusing to give up on her.

"Come on, Emma!" He yelled his anger and frustration overwhelming him, shaking his voice.

He refused to accept her as gone.

Emma didn't like the fact that the blissfully happy and bright place she was in seemed to be slowly slipping away. She was annoyed by the fact that she was being ripped away from the pleasant place. Something was pulling her away from it, that she knew. She tried to cling to her surroundings, fighting the pull. A dull pressure slowly built in her chest.

Emma didn't want to leave wherever she was and became increasingly irritated as the insistent pressure in her chest continued. Wherever she was, it was nice. The place was warm and very welcoming, beckoning her to delve further into its comfort. Of course, something didn't seem right, but with all the content feelings around her, she couldn't bring herself to care. She couldn't bring herself to acknowledge that fact that she felt like she had something important to do.

She became acutely aware of the pressure in her chest as it continued to grow more and more. She tried to ignore the pull, but it was aggravatingly persistent. Whatever this pressure was, it was trying to summon Emma away from the place's welcoming embrace. All she knew for certain was that it was good here, wherever here was, and that she was content and worry free. Somehow she knew that wherever the pressure wanted to take her, there would be pain. She really didn't want to go.

Her misgivings were pointless, though.

In an abrupt moment, consciousness and reality crashed into her painfully, shattering the pleasant visage she had been enjoying. The dull pressure on her chest turned into brutal pain and immediately she started coughing and spewing up water as it tried to escape her lungs. Why there was water in her lungs in the first place, she had no idea. She was gagging on nothing and everything at the same time as she fought to replace the water in her lungs with air.

Emma rolled onto her side, desperately trying to avoid drowning again in her own spit up. She was vaguely aware of something touching her and rolling onto something as she struggled with her lungs. All she could afford to focus on at the moment was getting water out and air back in.

Her ears didn't even register the voice trying to talk to her, trying to soothe her. Her body didn't even register the hand that aided heavily in holding her on her side, and without it, she'd be a crumpled mess. She was too weak to recognize any of that.

After a continuous violent coughing spree that rid her body of the water she had inhaled, Emma finally found herself gasping for air. She was finally able to breathe in some refreshing oxygen, which actually almost stung as much as the water as the air scratched at her throat. She still felt horribly lightheaded and despairingly weak. Everything hurt as her body ached with scratches and bruises that she had no idea of.

What scared Emma further than her vulnerability and weakness was her disorientation. She tried to recall where she was and what had happened, but all she could remember was having gone onto the island with Killian. A sudden panic washed through her.

"Killian?" She rasped out desperately, her worried voice cracking. "Ki—Killian!"

Was he hurt? Had he been abducted? Had she been abducted? Was she alone? Was he hurt worse than her? Were they attacked by the lost boys? Were they still in immediate danger? Was he—was he dead?

She tried to shove herself off the ground in case of an imminent attack. She needed to get to Killian, wherever and however he might be. It felt as if something coiled and squeezed around her heart at the thought of Killian being dead or mortally wounded. She needed to get to him.

Something physically held her down. Something was stopping her besides her own weakness and denied her attempts of getting up. She struggled, panicked that she'd been captured.

"Emma!" Finally Killian's voice broke through her haze and panic, and his voice registered in her brain. Though, he'd been yelling at her since before consciousness claimed her again. Her heart was still racing, though, she calmed slightly at his voice, the affirmation that he was indeed alive. Emma ceased her struggling and relaxed.

"Emma," Killian said again, "Swan, look at me."

She still felt too weak, though.

"Emma, look at me," he commanded.

With his demanding voice, Emma finally mustered enough energy to open her eyes. Squinting up, she discovered Killian crouched over her. His face was concentrated with some type of emotion but she was too dazed to identify it. He was dripping wet, droplets sliding down his face from his hair and falling onto Emma. She felt an insane amount of relief at discovering that Hook was okay and that he seemed well. A feeling that was akin to the place where she had been while unconscious finally sunk into her; she became very relaxed and content.

Then he was talking to her and she almost didn't register his voice again. "Emma, can you hear me?"

It was too much effort to talk and too much strain to keep her eyes open, so they slowly closed of their own accord. She nodded in reply, murmuring acknowledgement low in her throat. She was content enough knowing he was alive, she started to fade off to the sleepiness that was beckoning her.

"Emma, you can't shut your eyes," Killian said in a soothing voice, but there was an undertone of urgency that still remained. "Emma. Come on, Emma."

His hand gently rubbed her cheek and patted it, forcing her to remain conscious.

"Hey, Emma, come on. I'm going to get you back to the ship. You need to stay awake, though, love."

Emma blinked a few times, squinting up into his face. Somehow his face gave her some form of newfound motivation, and she had some grasp on reality. She murmured in agreement, "Okay."

Killian was slightly comforted by her agreement to remain awake, but it was far from what he needed to calm his rapidly beating heart. With her final acknowledgement, he was encouraged enough to pick her up, pulling her against his chest bridal style. He needed to get her to the ship immediately because the mermaid venom that was in her veins wouldn't have much mercy in an hour's time.